


A bond without words

by samariumwriting



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Developing Relationship, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, M/M, Nonbinary My Unit | Byleth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samariumwriting/pseuds/samariumwriting
Summary: When Byleth chose to lead the Blue Lions, they were expecting a relatively typical group of young people. Instead, from the very first weeks of their role, they were tasked with solving a mystery: what really tied Dimitri and Felix together.-“But we know them both better...better than anyone alive. And it’s disconcerting to see how close they’ve become, but not just as friends. There’s something else I can’t put my finger on.”“And you’re worried because they’re closer than you can understand,” they said.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	A bond without words

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! :) I hope you enjoy this. It's an idea I've been tossing around for a while and finally got round to writing.
> 
> Also Felix is trans and autistic here. It's not plot relevant but it pops up a couple times

“Professor, can I chat to you for a minute?” Byleth looked up from their desk to see Sylvain and Ingrid. They’d been teaching the Blue Lion class for a handful of weeks, and they felt they were slowly getting to know the group. When it came to these two, Sylvain was a handful, and Ingrid did most of the handling.

“Of course,” they said. “Is there a problem?” They’d had a handful of students come to them with problems already. Annette was looking for someone, Mercedes had seen a man staring at her in the training grounds and she was concerned, and now these two.

“It’s about his Highness,” Ingrid said.

“And Felix,” Sylvain added. The four, if Byleth recalled, were childhood friends. They knew very little about the history of the Kingdom, let alone its personal histories, but the reading they’d done informed them that Dimitri’s past was rather troubled. It was no surprise that something was coming up, really.

“Go ahead,” they said. They were determined to support the students in their class. There was...something about them all. Byleth just felt compelled to protect them.

“Well, it’s- it sounds silly, saying it out loud,” Ingrid admitted. “And even sillier to people who don’t know them well. But, oh, I don’t know how to put it. I’m sorry.”

“They’re really close,” Sylvain said. Byleth raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the problem, I swear!” Sylvain said, throwing his hands up. “It’s not like that. They’re really close and since four years ago - that was when the Tragedy of Duscur happened - they’ve been closer than ever. And we’re both worried about them.”

“Sylvain makes it sound really bad,” Ingrid said, and Byleth had to agree with her. Coming to them with a worry just because their friends were very good friends was a little much. “But we know them both better...better than anyone alive. And it’s disconcerting to see how close they’ve become, but not just as friends. There’s something else I can’t put my finger on.”

“And you’re worried because they’re closer than you can understand,” they said.

“Yes, exactly!” Sylvain said. “It’s not that they shouldn’t be close. We’re just- worried that something is going on behind the scenes and they’re hurting. And then if they fall out, they’ll have nowhere to go. They’ve been through a lot together, and-”

“You don’t need to explain yourselves,” they said, looking from Sylvain to Ingrid. They both looked tense, worried. This wasn’t a complaint borne of jealousy or anger. It was...fear of the unknown. Concern. Love. Byleth would be willing to bet that they did feel locked out of the friendship, of course, but that wasn’t why they were concerned, on the whole.

They had noticed that Dimitri and Felix were close. They hadn’t managed to set the pair to spar under their observation yet, but it was on their list and moving steadily upwards in terms of combat abilities that needed to be assessed. When they’d asked for a run down of everyone in the class after they arrived, Dimitri had described Felix as ‘a close friend and companion who admires those who are skilled. A little prickly, but a sincere man underneath’.

It had, like all of Dimitri’s assessments of his classmates, seemed rather accurate. But now Byleth couldn’t help if there was something more that they hadn’t caught. Perhaps Dimitri had smiled in a certain way, or his inflection had been different. They hadn’t known him well enough to tell, at the time.

Felix and Dimitri sat next to each other in class. They sat next to each other during meals, with Felix at Dimitri’s left and Dedue at his right. They had fought impeccably alongside each other in the mock battle, a whirlwind of destruction, their agility unlike anything else. Byleth had put it down to battle experience rather than any kind of connection, but now they wondered. What was hidden behind that fragile mask of the young prince?

“What do you want me to do about it?” they asked.

“Just keep an eye out for them, I suppose,” Ingrid said.

“And see if you can work anything out about what’s going on,” Sylvain said. “I have a couple of thoughts already about some things that could be happening. Maybe we just need a fresh perspective to work it all out, you know?”

Byleth got the distinct feeling they’d just been roped into something they could potentially regret, but seeing how worried Ingrid and Sylvain were made them feel like they just couldn’t say no. They hadn’t realised just how difficult supporting a group of young people would be, but if they could even help one of these four just a little, that would be enough.

-

“Okay, so hear me out before you start judging me on this one,” Sylvain said a week later, and Byleth knew that they would be judging him almost immediately. They didn’t know the group all that well, but they knew for sure that Sylvain got himself into a lot of trouble and they couldn’t yet tell whether it was on purpose or not.

“What did you do this time, Sylvain?” they asked, and, on cue, he spluttered and put on the innocent face that they didn’t think was meant to fool anyone.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said. “I observed a couple of things that I couldn’t fail to notice considering my proximity to the individuals in question?” He sounded slightly nervous, so Byleth wasn’t going to give him a pass just yet, but they motioned for him to continue. “I think Dimitri and Felix are sleeping together.”

“And you’re telling me this for what reason?” they asked. There was exactly no good reason they could think of for Sylvain to tell them about their students’...intimate activities. “I said I would help you, but if you’re just here to gossip there’s no point.”

“No, not- not like that!” Sylvain sounded genuinely perturbed, so that was one thing. “Goddess, Professor, I would just drop it if it was that. Though that would be even harder for me not to hear. My bedroom is next to his Highness’.”

“I know,” they said. They had a floor plan of the dormitories, which was meant to aid them in returning lost items and locating the source of noise at night; they knew exactly where everyone’s rooms were.

“Well,” Sylvain started, shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet, “his Highness doesn’t sleep there every night. He sleeps in Felix’s room. I know, because I always hear him leave late at night, and he doesn’t come back until the morning.”

“And when he does sleep there?” they asked. Dimitri had described his past as ‘not exactly happy’ to them, and they’d admit they were a little worried about how he was holding up. If he was having trouble sleeping, they wanted to know. Sleep, more than almost anything they’d do throughout the day, was important.

“That’s when I hear Felix knock on the door,” Sylvain said. “They stay up talking, and then I get woken up at some unreasonable hour in the morning when they get up.”

“I see,” they said. They didn’t exactly know what Sylvain was expecting them to do with the information, but if anything it was good to know that the two of them were sleeping just fine. They were just getting up at an hour Sylvain thought was too early. He probably meant dawn. “What do you want me to do with this information?”

“Oh, uh, ha ha,” Sylvain said, rubbing the back of his head and still looking distinctly awkward. “Nothing, I suppose. It’s not like you can ask them about it, because that would be weird.”

“It would,” they agreed.

“Actually, it’s probably kind of weird that we’re discussing it in the first place, huh?”

“It is.”

“Sorry, Professor,” he said, and he did genuinely sound sorry. “It’s just that they don’t talk to me anymore. Felix and I used to be pretty close! Not as close as he was with Dimitri or anything, but he used to be such a sensitive little kid and I feel like he’s stopped caring about those kinds of things now.”

“I see,” they said. From what little they knew about Felix (who was definitely closer to the “prickly” descriptor Dimitri had given rather than “sincere”, in their experience), he wasn’t someone they’d imagined as sensitive.

Sylvain was worried, and they could see and understand that, but he was also being particularly nosy. “I don’t know what to do,” he said.

“Have you tried talking to them about it rather than Ingrid or myself?” they asked. An odd look they couldn’t quite interpret crossed Sylvain’s face.

“They always came to me before,” he said, and two things went unspoken there. The first was that ‘before’ meant ‘before the Tragedy’, and the second was that Sylvain didn’t know how to go to them. “Every time they squabbled they’d cry to me about it.”

“Is it that they don’t argue anymore?” Byleth asked. That was unlikely; they were young, and still growing, and spent a lot of time together. They inevitably disagreed sometimes.

“They do,” Sylvain said. “I can hear when they argue, even when I don’t hear the words, but they- I don’t want to intrude on or share too much of their personal life, Professor.” As quickly as it had formed, the concerned furrow in his brow disappeared and it was replaced with an uneasy, neutral, and incredibly fake smile. “Sorry for bothering you. I’m sure they can sort this out themselves.”

Maybe Felix and Dimitri were the wrong people to worry about, they thought, watching Sylvain leave. Maybe they needed to watch out for him too - he’d clearly lost more in the Tragedy than he wanted to put into words.

-

Felix remembers one time when they were children when they shared a bed and their hearts beat at the same time. Slowly, steadily, their hearts beat as one. Their breathing matched. When Felix fell asleep, he was so close to Dimitri that he couldn’t tell where he ended and his best friend began.

It was times like that when they didn’t even share words. They didn’t need to.

When he woke up in the middle of the night with a start because he had a nightmare he could no longer remember, Dimitri woke up right alongside him and held him just tight enough that he felt present again. It chased the bad feeling away.

It was something he’d expected would go away as they got older. He watched as the bonds between his friends, the easy friendship and contact between children in the market, fell away as they grew up. Hugging and tumbling gave way to fist fighting and silences. Awkward moments they couldn’t bridge now Sylvain did things like flirting and dating.

But the closeness didn’t go away. Felix stopped holding Dimitri’s hand in public, sure, because ten year olds didn’t do what five year olds did, but the warmth between them was just as strong. Felix still slept best in Dimitri’s bed, with his arms around Dimitri, with their breathing in sync.

Even the Tragedy couldn’t change that. Even when they both found it hard to sleep, or when they woke up several times a night (always at the same time as each other, always with the same dream. A shared dream, with only a single difference), Felix slept better next to Dimitri.

There was a brief time when they were separated after the Tragedy. It was to make things safer for Felix, Cornelia claimed, while things settled down around Dimitri. She wouldn’t accept his protest that he could protect Dimitri from anything, and he didn’t accept it himself (Glenn couldn’t protect Dimitri. No one had been able to protect him from the terrible things they’d both seen. Felix didn’t even understand why they were alive), so he went.

He barely slept for that next week. He could tell that Dimitri barely slept either, because when they were finally reunited the shadows under his eyes were even darker, the rest of his skin paler. They didn’t sleep well together, but they slept better than they did when they were apart.

He’d worried that being at the Academy would complicate things. Separate rooms, single beds. No servants willing to turn a blind eye to Felix never returning to his bedroom at the end of a long day, no Dedue glaring at anyone who chose to make a comment.

But it wasn’t as he’d feared. Maybe it was a little more difficult, sure, but nothing could stop either of them from doing what they needed to get as much sleep as they could. And, well, the beds being smaller didn’t matter when they could sleep curled so tightly into each other that Felix lost track of his limbs.

It wasn’t as sweet and innocent as it was when they were children, but it was infinitely more necessary. It was strange, he knew; unnatural, in ways. That was why they tried to hide it as much as they could, or at least not make it obvious. Felix didn’t want anyone thinking that he couldn’t get rest on his own.

So they slept in the same space, bodies and hearts and dreams as one, and it was the best he could manage. And as it was the only thing he could do to get Dimitri to sleep until dawn, then he’d put up with being cramped any night. He couldn’t calm his breathing until Dimitri was doing the same beside him, anyway. So it wasn’t exactly a chore.

-

“Felix and Dimitri, I want to watch you next,” they said. It was just over a month since the initial mock battle and they hadn’t put the pair of them opposite each other to spar yet. Both Felix and Dimitri were experienced fighters, more so than anyone else in the class, so they made good training partners for others.

The two of them shared a glance, presumably saying something to each other with just a look that Byleth couldn’t decipher. “Against each other, Professor?” Dimitri asked. There was a small frown on his face. Clearly they weren’t keen on fighting each other.

There was a pause. Byleth nodded. Another pause, and Felix looked over at Dimitri again before scowling. “Think you’d lose, Dimitri?”

A small smile snuck its way onto Dimitri’s face. “Of course not,” he said, pulling a lance and sword from the rack of weapons. “We’re not accustomed to fighting each other, Professor,” he explained.

“Don’t you train together all the time?” they asked. A knight had come to them just last weekend to inform them that the pair of them were diligent students and almost always in the training grounds when they had spare time.

“Not against each other,” Felix said. He and Dimitri moved, side by side, into the area in the centre of the grounds, and after a moment he broke away to face off against the taller boy. “Don’t hold back.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dimitri returned. “Professor, on your mark?”

They nodded, and the match began. Almost immediately, the skill difference between this bout and the others was clear. Ingrid in particular was a strong fighter with lots of training, but when it came to experience, Dimitri and Felix put the others to shame.

They danced around each other; Felix was faster, but Dimitri wasn’t exactly slow. His strikes had more power, but there was no use to that if he couldn’t hit his mark. Dimitri also had considerably more physical resilience, and his blocks were better formed, but equally Felix wasn’t one to give up. Both of them had stamina that anyone else in the class would envy.

But as they kept going, ever dancing around each other, scoring a few hits but never making a final blow, it became clear to Byleth that something was wrong with the way they were fighting. Felix was a creative fighter, on the battlefield; he would weave in and out of enemies, use terrain to his advantage, do anything he could to come out on top. But his fighting style in this spar was uninspired, standard.

Similarly, Dimitri used so much brute power on the battlefield that sometimes it felt to Byleth like his weapons disintegrated in his hands. They had never seen anyone get through a sturdy weapon like a lance so quickly. Even when they’d watched him train or spar with others, he used a lot of force behind his attacks, enough to leave bruises. Yet, the strikes that had seemed so powerful in comparison to Felix’s were feather-light by Dimitri’s standards.

Both of them were acting automatically, without thinking thoroughly about what they were doing. Byleth had never seen either of them put so little effort into something before, and the match itself was going nowhere. Perhaps they were both waiting for them to call it off.

But it wasn’t a bad match, just not typical of them. They were both skilled, and their form was excellent. Their classmates were gaining a lot from watching them, and if they were going to train together like this in the future they would have to get used to fighting one another. It was by far the most effective way to improve.

So they fought, and they fought, and their stamina really was incredibly impressive. Byleth knew that both of them, though especially Felix, hated to lose. They wouldn’t give up until they absolutely had to. They were both tiring, slowly but surely, and one of them would have to give at some point.

In the end, it was Dimitri who faltered. Felix, in a surprisingly in-character move, practically dove underneath Dimitri’s arm as he went to strike. He came up behind him, and Dimitri only half managed to whirl round in shock before Felix tapped the wooden sword against the back of Dimitri’s neck. “I win,” he said, breathing heavily. Both of them were soaked in sweat.

“So you do,” Dimitri replied. He looked exhausted. They both did, and yet Byleth was no closer to understanding either of their combat abilities. They had more stamina than they’d imagined, but other than that the bout had been decidedly unhelpful.

“Thank you both for that demonstration,” they said, and Dimitri jumped, as if he’d completely forgotten they were even there. That, too, was very much unlike him. “Does anyone want to point out any areas for improvement, or something you’ll add to your own technique?”

They spared a glance towards Sylvain and Ingrid, who were stood next to each other. Sylvain’s brow was furrowed, Ingrid’s mouth half open. Eventually, Sylvain half raised his hand and spoke. “I think Felix needs some practise against tall opponents,” he said with a grin.

“Only if you want to end up with your ass planted in the dirt,” Felix shot back. The underlying tension dissipated with Sylvain’s returning laugh, and the lesson resumed. Byleth was still thinking about how utterly out of character the pair of them had been. Maybe there was something to Sylvain and Ingrid’s concern.

-

Sometimes, the four of them would play together. Him and Dimitri and Sylvain and Ingrid would get together and chase each other through the castle grounds, up and down staircases, until they were tired or someone fell over. They’d rest for a bit and start up again after that.

It was one of the only games they played, and it was simple on purpose - they couldn’t play hide and seek, because if Felix or Dimitri were seeking then they always found each other too easily and they got bored hiding all the time. They couldn’t play fight because they always insisted on being on the same team and even though Sylvain was bigger than them no one could beat them because they always fought well together.

In that way, nothing changed. In every other way...everything changed. Play fights for fun, sunny afternoons where Felix and Dimitri would take on an imagined world full of easily vanquished enemies, faded away sooner than either of them wished. In their place stood only training dummies of straw, dressed in armour both of them had seen soaked in blood.

In the wake of the Tragedy, training for fun, fighting for fun, all of that was a childhood dream. There was no longer any time for fun if one day Felix would stand at Dimitri’s side, the side of his King, as the man there to protect him above all else. And together, they would strike down everything that came in their way. They would seek out everything that shattered their childhood and cast it into the abyss.

Felix and Dimitri lived and breathed training once they’d recovered from the injuries of the Tragedy. Dedue made three, slightly making up the numbers that had once been four. But they didn’t fight each other. They never fought each other, because that felt wrong. Felix and Dimitri could both fight Dedue, but Felix could never bring himself to raise even the dullest wooden blade against Dimitri.

Dimitri, of course, had to be trained in other things too: government, finance, foreign policy, domestic policy. Sometimes Felix attended those lessons, sometimes he spent the extra hours running through more drills. Making up for the time Dimitri couldn’t spend training himself.

It wasn’t like they needed to be able to fight each other. Felix would never lift a weapon against Dimitri, so they were fine just learning to fight side by side. They made a good team, so why practise against each other? They knew each other well and could cover weaknesses, amplify strengths, and generally fight far better next to each other than anyone else could.

There was also the other issue. If Felix fought at Dimitri’s side, he could hold him back. Stop him from slaughtering too many, enjoying himself too much. He understood, of course. How could he not, when he felt the same loathing running through his veins? When, above the sadness that made him want to curl up and give in, the only thing he could think to do was snap at everything that even looked at him with pity?

No matter which way he looked at it, Felix knew that he was meant to fight at Dimitri’s side. Facing him down at the Professor’s command felt wrong, unnatural. Pressing a sword to the back of Dimitri’s neck, even one that could never really hurt him, made him want to keel over.

He didn’t understand, but he also didn’t think he should question it. It suited him just fine. It didn’t matter to him that his body shouldn’t react with physical revulsion to such a simple thing. Maybe it was the tiniest bit concerning, but it wasn’t actually a problem. It would turn out fine, so long as he could stand at Dimitri’s side and protect him.

-

“Sylvain.” It was Annette who broke the silence; the class had been interrupted by a lively debate between Ingrid, Ashe, and Felix about a literary figure Byleth had never even heard of. Felix had, as they found he often did when knights came up, quickly become frustrated.

The conversation had ended when Felix stormed out of the classroom, claiming there was no point in continuing to associate with people who simply followed orders blindly. Dimitri had glanced helplessly between the now silent class and where Felix had left, before apologising profusely and promising to bring Felix back to the class soon. With that, he’d left.

“Yes, o lovely Annette?” Sylvain asked, and he received a glare from Ingrid for his troubles.

“Actually, I’ll ask Ingrid,” she said, her smile wide and sweet, yet somehow sharp at the same time. Annette was full of surprises, at times. “Are Felix and Dimitri dating?”

Byleth pulled their face into a deliberately neutral expression. It seemed they wouldn’t be restarting their lesson for a while; maybe not even until Dimitri returned with Felix (he would - Felix leaving class wasn’t a common occurrence, but it was far less rare than anyone else leaving the room, and Dimitri always brought him back).

The only response Annette received at first was Sylvain and Ingrid spluttering in tandem. “No, I don’t think so,” Ingrid said.

“But they’re always...like that!” Annette said, gesturing at the door. Dedue, sat in the middle of the left bench neither close to the front or the back of the room, smiled slightly. Annette, sat further forward and facing Ingrid, who was even further forward, didn’t see his expression.

“Yeah,” Sylvain said, “but they’ve always been like that. They’ve been like that since before Felix could talk.” Sylvain, Byleth noted, was barely more than two years older than the pair. How he remembered such a thing was beyond them, unless…

“Even with the hands and everything?” Ashe asked. Sylvain’s left eyebrow shot up, and Ashe’s face turned bright red. “That’s not what I mean, Sylvain!” Laughter filled the classroom as Ashe attempted to collect his thoughts on the issue.

“I know what Ashe means,” Mercedes said, and he accepted her offer to bail him out with a grateful smile. “Dimitri and Felix are very physically affectionate with each other.”

“I wouldn’t call them affectionate with anyone,” Ingrid said with a laugh. “But I know what you mean. And yes, Sylvain is right, they’ve been like that as long as I remember.”

Byleth knew what they all meant, too; Felix and Dimitri were very reserved people. Amongst a class who were incredibly friendly when the mood struck them, handing out hugs over the smallest of problems or achievements, Felix was the only person who had never accepted a hug from Mercedes.

And yet, Dimitri and Felix weren’t reserved with each other. They didn’t go for grand gestures like Annette did, nor did they thank each other profusely like Ashe did when he received a kind motion from someone. But they weren’t reserved. They sat close together in the dining hall, Dimitri would fix Felix’s hair while they were training, and occasionally Byleth would see them nudging each other in the ribs.

None of the actions were particularly romantic, or even all that intimate, yet they were a far cry from the way Felix and Dimitri interacted with everyone else. Annette’s question seemed like a fairly reasonable one.

“You’re absolutely sure they’re not dating?” Annette asked again, and this time Byleth watched as Dedue cracked a smile. He was clearly finding the whole exchange very entertaining. “They’d be a really great couple. I guess they’d just talk about swords all day, though.”

“You could ask Claude,” Sylvain said with a shrug, and his hands swung up to support the back of his head in a gesture Byleth was coming to recognise as Sylvain feigning lightheartedness. “He shares a wall with Felix. Maybe he could tell you about the sweet nothings Felix does or does not whisper into his Highness’ ears.”

“Oh!” Mercedes said, a smile on her face. “Don’t you share a wall with Dimitri, Sylvain?”

Sylvain laughed. “I do,” he said. “But Dedue knows where I sleep, and I value my life.” With that, he turned in his seat and shot Dedue a thumbs up. Dedue nodded in return, and the smile on his face grew just a little. “Claude, on the other hand, fears neither Goddess nor man. So you’re better off asking him.”

“I didn’t really mean-” Annette said, but she cut herself off. “I was just curious, you know? It would be kinda nice if they were together, I think Dimitri makes Felix happy.” Her hands, previously engaged in slightly frantic gesturing, dropped into her lap. “It sounds weird now I said it aloud.”

“A little,” Ashe agreed, “but I don’t think you’re wrong or anything!” he added hurriedly. “I think it’s nice of you, to ask about something you think would make them happy.” He looked around at the rest of the class, and they all added notes of affirmation.

With that, the conversation died down a little, and Byleth was finally able to regain control of the lesson time. Dimitri, with a slightly less fuming Felix in tow, re-entered the classroom not five minutes later. The whole episode wasn’t entirely unusual, but it gave Byleth something to think about; it wasn’t just those closest to Felix and Dimitri who’d noticed something between the pair. They just still couldn’t work out if it was something they should actually be concerned about.

-

Sometimes, when he was younger, he would sit with Dimitri and their fingers would lace together without him even thinking about it. Felix was not a physically affectionate person. He was sensitive, and he cried maybe a little bit too much for someone who was meant to grow up big and strong like Glenn, but he wasn’t affectionate. He didn’t touch people a lot.

He didn’t like the feeling of someone else’s touch brushing against him. It felt wrong, painful. Sometimes it made him jump. Sometimes even someone passing close by him made him shiver, disrupted his thoughts, made him feel like he was in the wrong place.

Dimitri was different. Dimitri felt right.

Dimitri’s touch was gentle, firm, and always expected. It wasn’t some half ghosting touch that came from nowhere, nor an unpredictable movement that felt rough against his shoulder. Dimitri understood exactly how he didn’t want to be touched.

Where everyone else’s touch made Felix feel like he wasn’t quite himself, Dimitri’s touch grounded him. Comforted him. It felt familiar to have Dimitri’s hand in his, or to have their legs touching. He always used to cry if a maid brushed his hair, but if Dimitri tried then it was fine.

He didn’t understand it, exactly, but that was fine. People got the message that he didn’t like to be touched fairly quickly when he was a child. They chalked it up as another one of his eccentricities, alongside the trousers and the new name and all the things that weren’t quite meant to be his but were allowed, they supposed, if it made the little lord Fraldarius happy.

That, he supposed, was something that didn’t change. Touch didn’t become something he sought out in the wake of all the terrible things that happened to the pair of them. He didn’t go looking for comfort from anyone other than Dimitri.

Contact remained easy between them. Dimitri’s hand on his back, steadying him in a crowd. His shoulder nudging Dimitri’s to remind him to focus. Dimitri’s pinkie finger linked with his, maintaining contact that could be passed off as an accident if anyone caught a glance. His forehead pressed against Dimitri’s when the voices Dimitri heard night and day made him feel like his head had been cleaved in half.

With Dimitri ever next to him, Felix felt more like himself. He breathed easier. His words were less likely to catch in his throat. When he and Dimitri were separated, it felt a little more like someone had walked off with Felix’s left arm, or half his heartbeats.

He liked to think it was perfectly usual. The rest of the Blue Lions were very affectionate, after all. With each other. Felix was just...more selective about who he let touch him. It was normal to find comfort in other people, he knew that. So if he kept telling himself that this was normal, he could focus on more important things.

-

“Ah, fuck!” Sylvain’s voice rang out across the training grounds, and everyone immediately stopped to stare. Byleth had admittedly not been watching his match with Dimitri; they’d been watching Dedue coach Ashe and Annette through the finer points of some axe wielding.

Sylvain was doubled over, his right hand shielding his chest. From first glance, probably a broken rib. But he was still standing, and Dimitri stood opposite him, the blunted end of a training lance now pointed towards the ground.

Byleth counted six seconds before Felix was at the pair’s side. First, he shot Dimitri a look they didn’t quite recognise, and then he sized Sylvain up. “Well don’t just stand there,” he snapped. “Mercedes?”

Mercedes was over in an instant, her hands over Sylvain’s chest. “This is…” she looked over at Dimitri, who was now profusely apologising to Sylvain (who clearly wasn’t listening). She let out a soft laugh, but something about it told Byleth that whatever she was laughing at wasn’t actually funny. “You’ve shattered a segment of his rib with a training lance?”

“I really am sorry,” Dimitri said, wordlessly handing the lance over to Felix. “I didn’t realise. You’re getting too good, Sylvain!” In reply, Sylvain grunted in pain.

“He needs to go to the infirmary,” Mercedes said, directing her words back to them. “Professor Manuela needs to see this, and then it needs to be wrapped properly.” They nodded, and Ashe immediately volunteered to help Sylvain over to the infirmary.

Once they were gone, Byleth turned to the remaining members of the class. “You can all get back to what you were doing,” they said. “Dimitri, could I have a quick word?”

Dimitri nodded, and Byleth watched as Felix hesitated for a moment before placing the lance he’d been handed on the ground and going back to his match against Ingrid. Byleth stood at the edge of the training grounds, their eyes fixed on their students, and waited for Dimitri to speak.

“I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again, Professor,” he started, and Byleth stopped him.

“I doubt you intended for it to happen in the first place,” they said. “What have you been doing to work on it? Obviously in real combat, you’re not fighting your allies, but every gift you have should be under control.”

He nodded. “I try to hold back when I’m training,” he said. “Sylvain is stronger than he used to be, and sturdier than most members of our class. I needed more strength than I’d anticipated, and it just...slid out of my reach, I suppose.”

“You train a lot against dummies rather than real people,” they said, and Dimitri nodded again. His gaze, they were sure, was fixed on Felix. Ever his training partner, but never his opponent. “I know you find training against Felix uncomfortable, so perhaps you should find someone willing to face you who trains regularly.”

Dimitri’s front teeth started worrying his bottom lip at the mention of training against Felix. “Perhaps,” he echoed. They stood in silence for a few moments, Dimitri shifting his weight from one foot to another. He wanted to say something else. “You haven’t paired me against Felix since our initial bout, Professor.”

“I presumed you preferred it that way,” they said. Neither of them had said anything about it, but they were absolutely positive that they’d found their match against each other decidedly uncomfortable.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Dimitri said, his light tone belying that he had, in fact, thought about it a great deal. “But I suppose you’re correct. You really are quite perceptive, Professor.”

“If you do think about it, and wish to share your thoughts, you can always speak to me about it,” they said. Dimitri nodded, and he was still worrying his bottom lip, but he didn’t say anything more. “It looks like Ingrid needs another partner. Keep what I said in mind?”

“Of course,” he said, and he offered them a smile before heading off to train again. His grip on his lance was decidedly looser this time around.

-

When Dimitri was seven, he’d wanted to visit Fhirdiad’s markets on one of Felix’s many visits to the capital. They’d planned the outing for several days; a handful of knights were asked to escort them, and Dimitri’s nanny prepared where they would go and the time they were meant to get back.

When the day came, both of them had been incredibly excited. If Felix was being honest, he barely remembered anything from the day itself. He didn’t remember the markets they supposedly attended, nor the food they ate for lunch.

What he did remember was that Dimitri, at some point towards the end of the day, had pulled him off in the direction of a small stall selling little wooden swords. But instead of Felix being pulled along gently, laughing at Dimitri’s energy and the poor nanny attempting to keep up with two small, excited children, Dimitri had pulled Felix’s arm out of his socket.

It wasn’t a serious injury. Felix had cried for a while, of course, because his tears tended to flow freely back then, and it had definitely hurt, but far worse for seven year old Felix was Dimitri’s reaction.

So horrified by his strength, and the fact that he’d hurt his closest friend, Dimitri refused to so much as get near him for over a week. Whenever he got anywhere close, his lips pursed in concentration and his brow furrowed, every action taken slowly.

At the time, it felt like the end of the world. Dimitri was Felix’s best friend. The person he cared about most out of everyone (including Glenn, he used to say proudly, and his father would chuckle and ruffle his hair and Felix knew now that this was because of a twisted view of what loyalty should be). And he wouldn’t even let Felix hold his hand.

The fear passed, probably because Felix insisted on Dimitri being his friend again and didn’t stop crying until Dimitri gave him a hug, his arms tentative and shaking slightly out of fear the worst would happen again.

It was impossible to forget that Dimitri had monstrous strength he occasionally found hard to control; he was always breaking things (usually glasses or weapons), snapping things (so many pens), or generally mangling things beyond recognition (Felix had been to Garreg Mach’s markets with Dimitri to buy Mercedes a new sewing kit three times now).

And yet, it had been many years since Felix had ever been hurt by Dimitri’s touch. Dimitri had been known to accidentally give bruises during handshakes, and he’d once broken his own elbow (and a doorframe) when he bashed into a door with too much force. But since that day when they were seven, Dimitri had never once pressed too hard or gripped with too much strength.

It was something Felix never called attention to - Dimitri tended to be embarrassed about his strength, and whatever it was they shared, they didn’t talk about it. Talking about feelings and bonds that could melt away in an instant if something like Duscur were to happen again...it was easier to just ignore it. Ignore it, and hope that whatever they held between them wouldn’t shatter with time.

-

The night after the battle at Remire, once all the students had trudged back to the monastery, feeling drained and defeated and beaten into the dirt by their not-victory, Byleth went to the training grounds to clear their mind, just as they always did.

This time, however, Felix was alone. It was, perhaps, the first time they’d seen him not accompanying Dimitri, ever the sword at his side. This time, he was hitting a training dummy repeatedly. His actions weren’t proper drills, and were likely doing nothing beneficial to his muscles, tired from a day of fighting.

He didn’t pause when Byleth entered, so they waved to him. “I’m training,” he grumbled, and didn’t stop.

“I’m intervening,” they replied, and they stepped closer. Felix’s movements faltered, but didn’t cease. “It’s been a long day. You should be heading to bed, Felix.”

“Professor, please help me. He’s falling apart.” His gaze hadn’t strayed from the training dummy in front of him, but his voice was quieter. It held something they’d never heard from Felix before.

They stepped closer again, and Felix stopped. He sighed. They’d never seen him look so exhausted. He let his sword fall to the ground, and it hit the sand with a dull sound. “Let’s talk about this,” they said. Felix frowned, but didn’t turn away. “Talk me through the problem from the beginning.”

“I’m not sure what there is to say,” he snapped. They waited in silence. There was plenty to say, Felix just didn’t want to say it. So they waited, and after a few moments, he opened his mouth again. “You know about the Tragedy of Duscur?” he asked.

They nodded. “A massacre four years ago,” they said. “The entire royal family and those who accompanied them were slaughtered, except Dimitri...and you.”

“Yes,” Felix said. There was a tightness to his posture, and he wouldn’t meet their eyes. “Dimitri lost everything that day, and he hasn’t been the same since. You don’t see those things and come out as the same person.”

Byleth chose not to mention that Felix was the same. They’d heard, from Sylvain and Ingrid, that Felix was very different to how he’d been as a child. Much harder. Much more restrained. “And that has something to do with what happened today,” they said.

“It was...exactly the same,” Felix said, and Byleth watched him closely. When he spoke, something in his demeanour changed. “The fire. The screaming. The smell, the smoke. No one who came out alive really won.” His voice was clipped, his breaths coming short and sharp.

“Felix,” they said, and the moment passed. The look in his eyes faded, and Felix, tired to the depth of his bones, returned. “You’re worried about him?”

“Just wary,” he said. He was worried about Dimitri, then. “I know him better than anyone else, even Dedue. He’s been pretending to be okay this whole time, but I don’t know if it can last much longer. And I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“Can I?” they asked. They had a feeling they already knew what Felix’s answer would be.

“Of course not,” Felix said. “You barely know him. I just thought you should know that I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold him together, and if I can’t then what comes next won’t be pretty.”

He turned on his heel and left the training grounds without even returning the training sword to its stand. Byleth couldn’t help but wonder if he was going back to his own room, and if Dimitri would be there waiting for him.

It was interesting to see Felix away from Dimitri, properly, for the first time. He was exactly the same, in some ways. Abrasive, focused on his own strength and what he needed to do to help others. But it felt like something was almost missing, seeing him talk without the constant interjections from Dimitri. They came as a pair, and seeing him alone…

Byleth didn’t know if Felix realised how odd his connection to Dimitri was. How impenetrable Dimitri seemed to everyone else, so friendly and yet so closed off. They didn’t know if the discussion had revealed more about Dimitri (why the incident had affected him so much, the parts of Dimitri that he must be perfectly aware of yet wanted no one to see) or Felix. Felix’s utter disregard for himself in this whole situation.

Seeing the way Felix had spoken about the Tragedy, how worried he was, and what he’d said about Dimitri… Byleth was just as worried about Felix. Something was off with the pair of them, and it wasn’t how close their bond was and how strange that seemed to outsiders. It was why they were so close. How it had changed so quickly.

Most of all, the thing that was off was what was to come. The pair of them stood on a precipice, but Felix could only see Dimitri standing at the edge. And Felix was right; Byleth had no idea how to draw them away. They had no idea what to do next.

-

It had only been a matter of time, they supposed. Felix had warned them that he didn’t think he could hold Dimitri together much longer. Felix had warned them that whatever happened when he failed wouldn’t be pretty. But seeing Dimitri take on a whole contingent of soldiers with his bare hands, seeing Felix stand numbly by, staring...it was different to just hearing his warning words.

Dimitri spent a large portion of the following weeks in the cathedral. It wasn’t a spot either of them had frequented in the past, but Dimitri stood with his eyes fixed on nothing in particular for hours on end, muttering threats towards Edelgard when anyone came close.

Felix threw himself into training with as much vigour as before, and Byleth took to making nightly rounds of the monastery to make sure all their students were in bed. Ingrid and Ashe could be rounded out of the knight’s hall, Dedue and Annette out of the kitchens, Sylvain out of the library. But getting Felix to leave the training grounds was a chore.

It was a week into this schedule, fast becoming familiar, that Felix didn’t hesitate when they entered the grounds. He ran through his cooldown stretches and set his training sword aside, and turned to them. “I’m probably next,” he said.

They nodded, waiting for him to elaborate. “Next to snap,” he continued. “I…” His hands balled into fists. “I’m angry. At her.” Edelgard, obviously. “I want...to hurt her. I want to see her dead. She’s-” He cut himself off again. He started pacing between two of the columns in the grounds.

“I don’t know if I want to see her head because she would hurt Dimitri, or if it’s because of her ties to the Tragedy, or if it’s just-” Felix let out a stuttering sigh, took a deep breath in, and kept speaking. “Perhaps his feelings are mine too. Perhaps I’m nothing more than a beast, craving blood.”

Byleth didn’t know what to say. They couldn’t promise Felix that things would be okay. They couldn’t promise him that Dimitri’s apparent bloodlust would pass, or that his would. They couldn’t even promise him that he would survive the coming battle. “I can’t say anything for sure, Felix,” they said, “but I’ve never met two people with a bond so close. If...if something happens to either of you in the weeks to come, keep a hold on yourself. You’re a diligent and admirable young man.”

The lines on Felix’s face relaxed, ever so slightly. “Thank you, Professor,” he said. “I’ll do what I can.” With that, he left the training grounds in quite a rush. At least they’d got him to bed earlier than usual. With luck, he’d sleep a little better, and stave off the shadows forming under his eyes.

Byleth didn’t hear another word out of Felix in the last remaining weeks at the monastery. While Dimitri stewed, his anger brimming over at every mention of Edelgard, Felix stood just at his side, his eyes fixed either firmly on the floor or into the distance. His hands often gripped the hilt of his sword.

They worried for him. They worried for Dimitri. They worried for the both of them. But they knew, when the cliff they stood on crumbled beneath them and they went tumbling further than they could see, that it wasn’t up to them any more. Whatever became of any of their students was now completely out of their hands.

They hoped Felix and Dimitri would be able to hold themselves together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! :) please please consider leaving a comment if you have any thoughts on this at all. I'm also super chatty on [twitter](https://twitter.com/samariumwriting) if you ever want to say hi!


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